winter song

there is a deer, over here, in my favourite place, a deer with speckled fur and the eyes of the moon. there is a deer, over here, dripped in yesterday’s blood, a deer with no ear or no stomach. this deer, over here, was embracing the year, so blind and so merry he didn’t see it appear. “mr deer, over here, you laid singing your tune, now all remains of you is speckled fur, (and the eyes of the moon).”